


Walk this road together

by IronShieldGal



Series: Gavin Has A Heart (She's Called Mongrel) [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gavin Reed has a heart, Gavin redemption, Gen, I don't know what else to add, Sort Of, it's called Mongrel, no beta we die like men, she's a cat, trans!gavin, wholesome stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronShieldGal/pseuds/IronShieldGal
Summary: Gavin adopts a cat, reflects a bit on androids and people and his own past, and generally fails to hide that he has a heart.When I say I'm a do somethin' I do itI don't give a damn what you thinkI'm doin' this for me, so fuck the world, feed it beansIt's gassed up, if it thinks it's stoppin' meI'mma be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedlyAnd all those who look down on me, I'm tearin' down your balconyNo if, ands or buts (…)Not afraid, by Eminem





	Walk this road together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittenBloodCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenBloodCoffee/gifts).



> wwhoooops i was trying to write a new chapter for Detroit: Become soulmates (and also dead) but this happened instead. 
> 
>  
> 
> uh hope you like it. It's tiny, but sweet.

Gavin would like to go ahead and say that he never intended any of this, and neither did he or would he ever condone the series of events that have passed the last couple of days.

 So it all started last Monday. It was dark and dreary and cold, thunder booming overhead and lightning sporadically lighting up Detroit as rain poured down on a sole figure walking down a dimly-lit road.

 The figure has his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his head bent and his legs stretching to walk as fast as possible. Detective Gavin Reed had stayed late at the precinct once again, working hard to finish up and get ahead, hoping to get recognized for all the effort he puts in. It won’t happen, not anytime soon, he knows, at least not without his social attitude improving. His eyebrows furrow, rain droplets streaming down his face as he bends his neck a bit further, trying to get less rain in his face. He knows he’s rude to his co-workers, but he’s had to claw his way up to the top of the food chain for his whole life now: He’s always had to fight, kicking and screaming, biting, tearing and scratching, to get recognized, to get acknowledged by anyone.

 He’s had to fight for everything in his life from an early age, from his parent’s attention to the right to wear jeans instead of a skirt. Had to fight to climb trees and run and get his sneakers dirty, playing with the other boys in the streets. He had to fight to be allowed to buy a binder when he started hitting puberty and his body grew stranger and he didn’t feel right in his skin anymore. He had to fight his parents at the age of fifteen when he cut his hair short.

 Gavin grunts and tilts his head up towards the sky, letting heavy rain hit his face. It’s not a subject he likes to think about, especially not right now. He’s in the middle of an important, quite stressful Red Ice case, on top of the stupid android that had shown up this morning and it had executed the interrogation flawlessly.

 Flowing seamlessly from caring and concerned to angry and impatient the piece of plastic had perfectly done something that took Gavin years of hard work.

 If  a detective android that was three months old could do his job now, Gavin has to admit to himself he’s scared of the future. He already works as hard as he can and if this piece of plastic is already on his level, he might be the next to lose his job.

 The RK800 is only a prototype, so if it’s successful there will be more.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s worked so hard for this, he’s suffered so much throughout his life and he’s finally where he wants to be and something that isn’t even a person is going to take it all away from him.

 He’s almost home. His chest aches and so do his feet, but he’s almost home and he can sit down, take off the tape and just lie on the couch in a baggy sweater, feet up and finally somewhere safe.

 Somewhere he doesn’t have to fight.

The rain is thunderous in his ears, not to mention the actual thunder booming through the sky occasionally, but he still hears the noises.

 Noises put him on edge, both because of his history in which noises usually meant an angry mother and a lot of pain, and because he’s a cop and he’s trained to be wary.

 It’s coming from an alley to his right, and cautiously he enters, looking around. He can’t see anything, but then the sound comes again and he realizes he has to look down.

It looks like someone collected cat hair for a year, made it into a ball and then threw it out in the rain, but the brown ball stirs and black eyes look at him, a tiny ring of gold visible, and he realizes it’s an actual cat.

 He kneels, the knees of his jeans immediately getting soaked, and the cat meows again. “Hey there,” he whispers, cautiously sticking out his hand for the cat to sniff.

 It’s so fucking thin, he realizes. It’s thin and wet and the brown and black and white hairs are all dirty with mud.

 “Fuck,” Gavin says. The cat presses its head against his hand, meowing softly, as if asking for help.

 “Fuck I can’t take you with me,” he says, and there’s no reason why not but he’s so used to not attach any meaning or sentiment to anything because his mom _would_ destroy it that he doesn’t realize he hasn’t seen his mom in years.

 “Fucking hell, okay, fine,” Gavin then says, and carefully picks up the cat. It lets him, and it’s really fucking light and he sees it’s even thinner than he’d thought. He’s got the cat on its back in his arms, but the cat comes up and places its paws on his chest, its head nestling in his shoulder.

 It’s tiny in size, too, and Gavin wonders if it’s even fully grown.

The cat lets him carry it for the few minutes it takes Gavin to reach his home, and is very calm as he fumbles with his keys to get into his apartment

 He puts the cat down on the couch after kicking the door shut behind him. It lies down, curling up but head coming up to watch him as he disappears into the bathroom.

He emerges with a towel and his phone in hand. He carefully dries the animal as the phone rings.

 When it’s finally picked up the cat is dry and purring, pressing its head into Gavin’s hand, asking for pets.

 He obliges.

“What the fuck do you want, Reed, it’s almost midnight,” Fowler’s voice greets him and Gavin scowls at the phone.  

 “I’m in later tomorrow,” he says. “I stayed until eleven today and I need to do groceries. Will be there before noon.”  
 “Fucking hell, Gavin. Fucking fine, just because you made good progress on the case tonight.” It’s as much of a ‘good job’ he’s going to get from Fowler, so he scratches the cat behind its ears and says goodbye to Fowler.

 He leaves the cat to go change, taking off the transtape and pulling on a baggy green sweater and moves back to the living room.

 It’s sitting up, looking at him, turning its head as he walks around it and lets himself fall on the couch.

 He doesn’t even bother turning the tv on. He just closes his eyes and wallows in self-pity and his worries for a while, his mind going into overdrive because he might not have a job this time next week, fuck.

 The cat crawls into his lap, curling up there, its tail ending up on its nose as it vibrates, purring, and almost automatically Gavin reaches down to put his hands on the soft fur.

 He doesn’t even realize when his self-deprecating thoughts tune out and he slowly drifts off to sleep.

 

He wakes up to the sun shining in his face, a cramp in his lower back from sleeping on the couch, and a cat in his neck.

 “What the hell, mongrel,” he hisses as he sits up, carefully, his hands flying up to his neck to keep the cat steady there.

 It’s tiny enough to keep sitting there, shifting its weight a bit and Gavin curses again, looking at the clock on the wall.

 Seven AM only, seems like his biological clock wasn’t too far off. He moves towards the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and rummaging around to make himself breakfast.

 Half an hour later he has eaten, showered and dressed, his tape back on, his shoes on his feet and leather jacket on, and the cat is on his shoulders again.

 “Listen, you mongrel, isn’t it enough that you’re allowed in my home? I’m going to buy you fucking food and shit, best you can do is stay here,” he tells it, craning his head to look the cat in the eyes. It just stares back, amber irises glowing in the sunlight as it is thoroughly unimpressed.

 Gavin gives up and grabs his keys. “Fine, whatever,” he says. “if people in the store stare at me it’s your fault.” The cat meows contentedly and wraps its fluffy tail around Gavin’s neck, resting against his breastbone.

 

People stare at him in the streets but it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as it usually does. That might be because they’re staring at the cat on his shoulder, sitting up and proud, glaring at everyone that looks at it and its tail resting protectively around Gavin’s neck, thumping against his breastbone like it’s fucking wagging its tail like a dog or something.

 It’s not the staring he got back in high school, back in his hometown, where people knew him since he was little. The stares were almost as bad as the whispers.

  _Oh, look, there goes young Evangeline, going around and pretending she’s a boy._

_Don’t worry, it’s probably just a phase. Her mother will help her grow out of it._

_Hah! Knowing Karen, she’ll_ beat _this phase out of her._

Gavin cringes at the memory, his shoulders curling in and his head tilting down, when sharp nails remind him of his passenger and he’s forced to square his shoulders again.

 He walks into the pet store and immediately there are three girls in their twenties cooing at the cat on his shoulder.

 When the one with the purple hair asks him what he needs, he fights the urge to shrug. Instead he reaches over and scratches the cat behind its ears. “I found it on the streets last night,” he says. “I need food and water bowls and a kitty litter thingy I guess,” he says. “I was hoping you could tell me about everything I need. And maybe its gender, because I don’t know.”

 The girls are a delight and are dead set on their mission, and Gavin can’t help but grudgingly admire how passionate they seem about the whole thing. He gets a cat bed, food and water bowls, cat food, a litter box, and some toys.

 Then one of the girls -the blonde one, the youngest- pushes something in his hands. “It’s a harnass,” she explains, and it’s got a leash. “If you take your cat out like this it might be beneficial to leash it, this way you won’t get in trouble entering places except for like, supermarkets,” she explains.

 “She’s a Maine Coon,” another girl explains, “mixed with something else, I think, because the ears aren’t pointy enough and she would be the smallest Maine Coon to ever exist. The fur pattern is called a brown tabby,” she continues.

 “So it’s a girl?” he asks, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but he wishes he could ask the cat, ask it if it’s okay with him talking about it in she/her pronouns, but he shakes himself mentally.

 It’s a fucking cat, it won’t care.

“Does she have a name yet?” the first girl, the one with the purple hair, asks as she’s ringing up his supplies. “We can print name plates for collars,” and, well, what does he care what he calls the cat, it’s not like it’s going to listen when he calls it.

 “Mongrel,” he finally answers, remembering calling the cat that a few times, plus it’s quite gender neutral and a good cat name.

 The girl smiles brightly at him and the blonde girl packs all his new stuff to fit in bags and he’s suddenly happy that his car is only a minute away, so he pops in and out a few times until everything is in the trunk of his car. He thanks the girls profoundly and gets back in the car.

 Nine am, and he’s got everything he needs. His phone chimes and he checks it to find a reminder that he should ask Fowler for a morning off later this week: he needs to get his monthly testosterone injection.

 They suck, they’re a reminder of his past, but they’re also a reminder of how much he’s fought already and he can’t give up.

 He quiets the reminder and focuses on the road back home

 

Work was the fucking worst, the fucking android was there again and Fowler was riding his ass about this Red Ice case. It’s been going for a while and it seems like there is another crime ring buried underneath the selling of Red Ice, but they haven’t found anyone who squeaked yet. It’s just too organized to be just about Red Ice, it’s a gut feeling he has and he’s learned to not ignore his gut feeling. Luckily Fowler agrees with him but he’s fucking stuck and it’s frustrating.

 When he comes home the cat is staring at him from the second he enters. It’s just sitting in front of the door and, for lack of a better word, glaring at him. It had been a fight to leave the animal at home, it seemed to want to accompany him everywhere and Gavin wasn’t going to bring a fucking furball to his work.

 “What,” he snaps at it. Her. “You’ve got food and water and a fucking bed and shit to play with, stop looking at me like that.”

 When he crashes in his bed, the cat curls up on his chest, covering it as if she knows he doesn’t like it.

 The case is fucking hell and it won’t leave his mind how people might be getting hurt while he’s lying here in his bed, he should be working on it, he should be cracking the case.

  But Mongrel is lying on his chest now and it seems like she’s sleeping so he decides he doesn’t want to disturb her and he feels himself drift off.

 

The rest of the week passes in a similar fashion: Gavin works his ass off, he worries about androids, especially now that they seem to be demanding freedom and equality, and he comes home to an angry cat that trails him everywhere and climbs on him every opportunity she gets. He gets more tired every day and he’s not getting enough sleep, worrying about his case, breaking his head over it, he’s overlooking something, he’s forgetting something and people could be getting hurt.

 And then it all suddenly is secondary because the androids are _people_ because only people would ask for freedom and equality, only people would be sentient and self-aware enough to realize they deserve it, and Gavin has to re-think his entire view on androids.

 He doesn’t know where he stands but he doesn’t have time to really figure it out because even though he always works hard this case has been really hard on him and he needs to fucking _solve it_ and get some fucking rest, but he can’t crack any of the people they arrest for selling red ice and he’s honestly starting to wonder if there is even anything there.

 He works hard and androids gain the right to earn a living, having to apply to positions and be hired just like humans do, and the week after that, Connor’s back.

 Gavin stays out of the android’s way because he just doesn’t know what else to do, but when he’s pouring over evidence and data hours after five, someone puts down a fresh cup of coffee from a coffee shop a few blocks down, and a pizza box.

 Gavin looks up and Connor is looking at him from the opposite desk.

“Detective Reed, are you quite all right?” he asks, and _fuck, fuck fucking FUCK_ Gavin doesn’t want to talk about this, not with this guy, but who can he talk to, honestly? He doesn’t have any close friends, hell, the only person in his life right now who even knows he’s trans is Fowler, and that’s because he needs to know.

  Gavin is tired and frustrated and afraid and so he drops his head into his hands and sighs, “fuck, hell no.” He downs a bit of the coffee and it’s fucking great, leave it to the robot to get him a fucking perfect cup of coffee, honestly, the freak probably analyzed his cups to see how he likes his caffeine.

 “I’ve been stuck on this case for a few weeks. It’s a lot of people working together, selling Red Ice, but it’s too organized. I think there’s something behind it, but I can’t find any evidence and if I don’t soon, the case will be closed as just a Red Ice case,” he gestures towards the computer. “Plus, y’all androids are people now and if I’m not perfect I’ll lose my job to one of you plastics,” he adds sourly, before picking up a piece of pizza.

 It’s got fucking pineapple on it. Gavin doesn’t know how Connor knew that he loves this pizza. Fucking hell.

 “I don’t think an android would take over your job, detective Reed,” Connor says. “Androids now have to apply to jobs and be interviewed, so they will only be hired if they’re good enough, and before you get replaced by someone, they will have to find someone who is better at your job than you are. That might prove to be an impossible task.” Connor’s fiddling with something, a flash of metal shooting through the air. “You might not be the most pleasant person to talk to, but you are one of the best detectives on the force.”

 Gavin is fucking speechless, and he doesn’t know what to say. “Fuck,” he just says. No one has ever told him he was good at what he does -he knows it, obviously, his results are always good and he solves cases more often than not, he works harder than anyone else here, but no one has actually told him something like that before.

 “If you want, I could look at your evidence? Having a different mindset and a fresh pair of eyes look at it might prove helpful,” Connor offers and Gavin seriously thinks about refusing, he wouldn’t want to give the robot any credit for his case, he might lose some of his reputation.

 But fuck it, his reputation isn’t as important as the lives of multiple people, and Gavin’s gut tells him that multiple lives are actually at stake here.

 So Gavin wheels his chair back and motions towards the monitor. “Go ahead,” he says. Connor leans over and presses his hand to the monitor, skin peeling back to reveal shiny white plastic. Gavin suppresses a curse and grabs another piece of pizza.

 “And, uh, thank you. Or whatever.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey so if you enjoyed this leave a comment! Huge thanks to KittenBloodCoffee bc they were there for the whole damn ride and also planned out more ideas for this universe with me, so if you would like to see more Trans!Gavin who accidentally adopted a cat and who slowly becomes reluctant friends with Connor because Connor just keeps checking on him and being nice to him. 
> 
> KittenBloodCoffee also helped me a lot by answering all my questions about female to male transgender stuff, so I could make sure i woudln't offend anyone.
> 
> If I did get something wrong on the subject, it is fully my fault and not theirs because i did not run every single detail by them. If I did get something wrong please tell me in the comments and I will fix it!!
> 
> [also follow me on twitter too stay updated on how much i'm working on other fics, or more fics in this universe!.](https://twitter.com/IronShieldGal)


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